Zaria

16

it's too hot to touch
nights like these you sit on the roof
ignore the red on your collarbone
stinging sensations

you take a breath
the second opens the synapses
he's too close for comfort
because 'you're a senior' he says and you reply with
'I know'

you are empty and suddenly have the urge to kiss him
but
the humidity feels like enough, his finger tips on
your wrist to ask for an explanation

because when people ask you about him
you say that you both are more summer than winter
unable to finish thoughts
half-eaten, chapped lips

and you both feel more human than alive
palms upturned to heaven

he 'needs' a smoke
but decides to stay and trace
the lines of your eyelids with his fingers
the curve of your jaw with his mouth

it's the last day of summer and
you feel so close to the stars but too far away to reach them
and he's too hot to touch